


we've made every mistake

by hoodiemalum



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, I'm Sorry, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, POV First Person, Poetry, Possessive Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, kinda all over the place oops, this is literally a poem dedicated to steve harrington pls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 07:44:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoodiemalum/pseuds/hoodiemalum
Summary: all i know for sure, with absolute certainty is that there isvenom coursing through my veinsand you are the only person i can count on to get it out.





	we've made every mistake

**Author's Note:**

> hi!  
> this is just drunk ramblings thrown together into a poem.  
> there isn't a story, but this is a place for creative energy and i needed to post this somewhere so :)

we’ve made every mistake   
every mistake written in the history books, marked down with warning signs   
cautiously spoken between friends who smile too wide, eyes indicating hidden secrets passing between people who’ve known each other their whole lives  
who’ve grown up with matching scabbed knees, worn down friendship bracelets pieces of yellow string tied on cold wrists, mom’s cooking and warm summers saturated with chlorine.

these friends who choke down danger, who encourage rage,   
watch with envy as your eyes burn bright with drunken ambition,   
as your lips turn wet, with constant attention, with sleepy tongues, with want lining the edge of your stomach.

friends who raise hands, shout after winning, leech onto the idea of a king,   
onto the idea of you.  
ones whose legacies rest on your shoulders, on top of the pale freckled skin,  
whose stories start and end with your name spilling out of their mouths.  
you are their king.  
and long after you have abandoned the throne, left it dry with melting gold and dripping blood  
you will be their ghost.   
haunting every memory, filling in the empty spaces   
until i fill your place,   
cover the throne with bruised skin and warm beer.  
then i will be their king.

childhood nostalgia covers every inch of your bedroom, covers every inch of the world you’ve built for yourself.   
you hide out during parties, during the chaos that creates waves of tension of destruction, of laughs and yells,  
stay for an hour, smile and wave, show everyone that you do know how to party you can let go, but after the hourglass runs out of the sand you count on to keep track of how slow life moves you walk off,  
leave. 

i know about your bedroom because i’ve been in there, during the rager you threw the other night,   
surrounding yourself with cheap beer,jungle juice,girls.   
i know about your old string bracelet, the photos of your adolescence of your childhood stuck in motion, as if that boy with the wild hair warm eyes and wide smile is still there, carved into your heart reminding you of the life you lived.   
i’ll do you a favor.  
he’s not there anymore. 

he left the night you kissed the side of my neck in the dark,  
warm in the cold night, leaving a trail of heat, fire, want.   
he was gone the night you decided to moan out my name,   
decided to grip my shoulders, moved to make space for us both in your car.  
you killed him the night you asked me to stay over,  
quietly whispered the words into my ear as you ran your fingers over my thawing heart.   
boys aren’t supposed to love boys,   
so i remind myself i don’t love you as i stare out your window all night.

we’ve made every mistake, i know this because i’ve cataloged every mistake in my mind,  
carved it into my psyche with a swiss army knife and fear dotting the edges of my field of vision. 

all i know for sure, with absolute certainty is that there is   
venom coursing through my veins   
and you are the only person i can count on to get it out.   
be my antidote.


End file.
